Superhero
by Katekas
Summary: Fluffy one-shot, RH. Hermione decides to take the evening off from work and spends some time with Ron.


**Superhero**

Hermione yawned and pulled her arms into a stretch over her head. Her back and shoulders cracked and she winced slightly. At least she finally had finished her Arithmancy essay and had a couple of hours left before bedtime to enjoy herself, doing what she liked best: curling up in her favourite armchair in front of the fire, with Crookshanks on her lap, not forgetting a good book – the most important thing of all.

She packed her bag up neatly, rolling up her essay and slotting it into the section she had specially charmed to hold her parchments in. It was important to Hermione for her work to not only be good, but look good, too. Ron had scoffed at her when she had explained this to him a couple of weeks earlier. "Honestly, 'Mione," he had said, deliberately using a shortened version of her name to annoy her, "I swear sometimes I just don't understand your whole obsession with work. You need to take a break. Making sure your parchment looks nice? I tell you, they're lucky if they even get a parchment from me!"

Harry had chuckled at this, but Hermione had rolled her eyes and said nothing. She had learnt it was best not to quibble about the subject of her working too hard, it was for the best. It was bothering her recently, this idea of perhaps taking things, especially her work, to extremes. She knew she worked hard, but also knew the benefits of relaxation. Which is why, she told herself as she turned down the corridor with the Fat Lady's portrait, she was taking the rest of the evening off.

"Noisy crickets!" she said to the portrait.

"Enjoy your evening, dear," replied the Fat Lady as she swung forward to let the sixth year in. "And don't work too hard!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows in disbelief – even the portraits knew how hard she liked to study. She glanced around the common room for her two best friends. Spotting a familiar shock of red hair stretched out in front of the fire, she ambled over to him, picking up a mug of hot chocolate on the way. Ron smiled up at her, munching on a sugar quill. "You alright?" he asked, sitting up. Hermione smiled as she sat down beside him, smoothing down her school skirt. "I'm good, Ron. What are you up to?"

Ron shrugged. "Ah, you know, the usual. I'm trying very hard not to do any work." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know what? It's succeeding."

Hermione grinned, and sipped at her drink. This was just what she wanted, an evening with Ron. It was not often just the two of them, and she really appreciated the times they did spend together. It was as if when she was with him, everything seemed to be all right.

Hermione lay down on her front, resting her head on her arms. She could stay like this for hours, just sitting in the company of her best friend, not saying anything and yet communicating. Her feelings for Ron seemed amplified, on a deeper level than usual; as if there was something they were both trying to say but could not with words. She gasped slightly as she felt him take a stray curl and start to idly play with it. It was unlike him in so many ways to be affectionate; he was never the overly touchy type that she seemed to be, especially towards him. It had been a while when she had no worries like this; sometimes it was good to just let go. With all the fears about Voldemort growing ever more, it was good for them to act like normal teenagers for a while. She sighed contentedly; right now, her life seemed to be perfect.

She turned over to look at Ron, who seemed lost in his own thoughts, a small smile playing on his lips. She smiled up at him. "What are you thinking about?"

Ron grinned back. "I'm thinking that we must have lost track of time. The common room is completely empty."

Hermione leaned up to look around; Ron was right. There was no one left, apart from someone's cat sleeping quietly on a chair in the corner. "We've been lying here for hours! I didn't even notice people leaving." She paused. "I wonder where Harry is, he would have come over."

Ron shrugged. "He's probably still with Dumbledore. He's been spending a lot of time in his office recently. Harry won't say about what either, but it's got something to do with Voldemort. I know it does. But I just wish….' Ron sighed. "I just wish that he could talk to us about his problems. We're his _best friends_, Hermione, and he's just so closed off about it all. It's his bloody nobility superhero complex thing and it drives me nuts!"

Hermione was taken by surprise by Ron's sudden outburst of feelings, but she could understand it. Feeling that it was the right thing to do in the situation, she slowly took his hand. Ron looked at her, his blue eyes watery and intense. "I know it's tough, Ron, but we just have to be there for Harry. That's what we do, what we're here for. And he'll talk when he's ready, I know he will."

The left side of Ron's mouth turned upwards in a half smile. "I guess so."

Hermione grinned. "I know so."

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. "If you were a superhero, Hermione, you would be Knowledge Woman. You would destroy your enemies with random facts and really heavy books."

Hermione laughed. "I'm sure. And what would you be, if you were a superhero?"

Ron put on a thoughtful expression. He was silent for a few moments, and Hermione found herself staring at the corner of his mouth. "I wonder what it would be like to kiss him…" she wondered, before chastising herself for thinking of this. He was her best friend, for Pete's sake and therefore completely out of bounds. Ron suddenly spoke up, jolting her out of her daydream.

"I would be SuperRon, defender of Knowledge Woman. When she is in danger, SuperRon flies faster than a Firebolt to the rescue!" Hermione suddenly felt a strong arm around her waist as Ron hoisted her onto his shoulder. "Ron!' she squealed. "Put me down!"

Ron ran with her to the other side of the common room. "Never fear, maiden, SuperRon is here to rescue you from the Evil Mountain of Work! My archnemesis, the wicked Professor of Doom, tried to trap you with excess homework and infinite essays, but I have rescued you from a lifetime of drudgery!" She laughed as she feebly pummelled his back in vain. He whirled around a couple of times, before putting her back down on the floor, his hands still firmly on her waist. They were inches apart.

"You saved my life! What can I do to ever repay you, SuperRon?" Hermione asked, continuing the game. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes ablaze with excitement. As they both panted from the exertion, she felt the atmosphere in the room suddenly change. They stood there, just looking into each other's eyes, not saying a word. She became very aware of the two of them standing so very close. If she just tilted her head up and he moved his down to hers, then their lips would touch and…

"I…ummm….I think it's time for us to go to bed." Ron broke the silence, dropping his hands. "I mean, our separate beds, not…together, or anything." He looked at his feet, his ears glowing red. Hermione nodded. She was desperate for the evening to not end, but had no idea how to prolong it. Reluctantly, she agreed. "You're right,' she lied. "We've got Potions in the morning; I don't want to be overtired for that."

They walked slowly towards the staircase leading to the girl's dormitories in silence. As they got to the foot of the stairs, Ron turned to Hermione. "I better go, I can't go up there, you know, because of…."

"I know. The alarm." Hermione replied. Outwardly, she tried to give off a feeling of indifference, inwardly, she was in turmoil. She forced a smile. "Well…goodnight then."

"Goodnight." Responded Ron awkwardly. They looked at each other for a moment, and a bolt of tension ran through Hermione's body, making her shiver with pleasure. Before she could think about what she was doing, Hermione pressed her lips to the corner of Ron's mouth. She held her lips there for a few seconds, before pulling away again and scurrying up the staircase up to her room.

Hermione closed the door of her room and leant against it, breathing hard, heart pounding. Closing her eyes, she relived the moment her lips touched his. It had seemed so right, a perfect end to a perfect evening. She walked over to her bed, and undressed quickly, folding her clothes neatly on her chair. Her heart was still racing as she slipped under her duvet. She licked her lips and she thought she could detect the faintest taste of sugar quills. She felt as if nothing would be normal between herself and Ron again; she had fallen for her best friend, Ron Weasley. She closed her eyes, and pictured his face in her mind's eye. She could see every freckle, every fleck of blue in his eyes, the exact colour and shape of his mouth. As Hermione finally drifted off to sleep, she had one final thought: Harry may be the Boy-Who-Lived, but Ron was her superhero.


End file.
